Adventures of the Teen Avengers
by That Crazy Marvel Nerd
Summary: The Avengers are teens! Follow along as the stories of famous characters are re-explained as teenagers, along with classic Avengers moments.
1. Steve's Story, Part One

Hey! This is my first time I'm writing an avengers fic so I hope this doesn't suck. I've written a Harry Potter fanfic before but this is new. I see a LOT of opportunity in this idea of Teen avengers. I know, I know, you've heard it before, but this is (hopefully) going to be different. I'm probably going to have really long chapters that explain the characters and every so often jump to the present on a normal day for the Avengers. Wow that was confusing…but… You'll figure it out. Thanks for reading this! Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: As much as I wish I do, I do not own any of Marvel's characters

Steven Grant Rogers

Captain America

Year: 1943

Age: 13

Steve turned, in an attempt to dodge a shove from his attacker, but the hands collided with his right shoulder, knocking him to the ground. He jumped up again, keeping his guard up. He curled his small hand into a fist and with all of the force he could manage, swung. To his satisfaction, he felt the punch connect to the jaw of the bully. It didn't do too much damage, as the boy rebounded and grabbed Steve by the waist and threw him to the ground. Groaning with pain, Steve took a deep breath. Unfortunately, the ground was littered with dust, dirt, and old cigars. He gasped and clutched his chest. Black specks formed in his eyes as the small boy wheezed. The bully took his opponents weakness as an opportunity, and delivered several,hard, merciless kicks to Steve's side. He knew this was not good. The kicks had knocked what little air that was left in his lungs out, and Steve's asthma was slowly killing him, his throat choking himself as he tried his hardest to breath. The bully laughed deeply and pushed Steve to the side, while planting a foot on his chest.

"You dumbass!" He said with a glint of evil in his eyes. "Did you really think that you could fight me?!" He pushed down harder on Steve's chest. He was slowly losing consciousness, but still fighting, because deep down Steve had a feeling if he passed out, he wouldn't wake up again.

"I can- d-do this all d-ay" Steve choked out, but then immediately regretted it, as the bully picked up his foot and stomped hard down again on his lungs. This is it. He thought. This is how I'm going to die. I might as well accept it. Steve stopped trying to fight the darkness crowding his eyes and mind. Letting go wasn't as hard as he thought it was. In his last seconds of consciousness, he felt the foot on his chest step hard one last time, then get taken away right after. A voice was yelling, Steve could hear it. Maybe I'm already dead. But no, he couldn't be. The pain in his lungs was still present and burning, but someone was shaking him vigorously. The same voice was shouting, very loud, but was so far away and fuzzy the voice just buzzed inside of Steve's head, along with a pounding of a frail heartbeat. He was starting to hear the voice clearer. It was telling him to open his eyes. I don't want to open my thought. If he opened his eyes he would see the bully hurting him, killing him. Yet, he felt obliged to listen to the voice, and opened his eyes. Everything was blurry, but he could make out a figure leaning over him. He sincerely hoped it wasn't the bully, waiting with the murderous glance in his eyes. But he could tell it wasn't him. As the world came into more focus, Steve knew it was the bully. It was an angel, a brown haired angel. He had died and went to heaven and now was seeing an angel. But no, it couldn't be. Steve shook his head slightly and closed his eyes again. The angel was shaking him now and screaming. This is an awfully angry angel he thought. The voice was back again, calling to him, "Punk, you better not give up on me" This is no angel, thought Steve.

"Bucky," Steve wheezed out before passing out.

Steve was awoken by a cold breeze. He opened his eyes and squinted at the sun, which was shining into the room through a crack in the window. A radio hummed a pleasant song in the corner. The honking of cars and talking of pedestrians filled the streets. Steve attempted to sit up, but groaned loudly and failed.

"You're awake!" Bucky called. He had large purple bags under his eyes, and ran up to Steve.

"What happened?" Steve had only remembered passing out and a pounding in his head.

"You were an IDIOT and tried to fight a guy THREE TIMES YOUR SIZE!" Bucky's face was glowing red with anger, and he gritted his teeth.

In a sudden rush, Steve remembered all that had happened. "I had to fight the guy. He tried to steal from a 5th graders lunch," Steve went red with embarrassment when he remembered he thought that Bucky was an angel. You aren't allowed to think that Steve. He told himself. You can't see him as an angel. That isn't allowed. That isn't right.

Bucky stood up from the chair he pulled over. "Jesus Christ Steve," he ran a hand through his messy hair and took a few steps away, thinking, then returned. "You can't help but help, can you?" He smirked and sat back down.

"Nope" Steve replied.

"Punk"

"Jerk"

"You feel up to eating anything?" Bucky asked as the smell of boiled chicken Sarah Rogers had prepared wafted up.

"Nah, I'm probably just going to sleep,"

"Alright," Bucky traveled to the kitchen and put a chunk of the small chicken on a plate and set it by Steve's bed. He needed to eat, he was already stick-thin.

Wow. I did not intend at first for this to be so deep. Anyways, hope you enjoyed. The next chapter should be more explaining, I just wanted to explain Steve and Bucky's relationship. Please comment if you liked this or not, I could use all the help I can get. I would also recommend to favorite this story as it will probably end up being hella long. Peace.


	2. Steve's Story, Part Two

**Hey! It seems like you guys like the story so far! That's awesome! I realize the first chapter was kinda like a Stucky one shot but still. Eventually all characters will be explained. I'm trying to write a new chapter every day to improve my writing, and again,PLEASE COMMENT! I need to know if this sucks or not! Thanks for reading! (Just a heads up I made up some date changes of characters to make the teenager aspect plausible)**

Steven Grant Rogers

Born: 1930

Year: 1944

Steve had wanted nothing more than to serve in the army. Ever since the war propaganda campaign started, showing proud Americans doing their part to win the war, Steve was inspired. He had tacked up posters of American flags and advertisements to buy war bonds all around the small corner he had in the orphanage. He hated it there. His father had died in a coal mine incident when Steve was seven, and his mother had died just after he turned thirteen from polio. He'd only been in the government orphanage for a little under a year, and was planning methods of escape. His cold dinner of usual mysterious stew and burnt bread was often stolen before he had a chance to hide it. Steve was already dangerously thin, and was growing smaller day by day. He didn't know it would all change one Sunday morning.

It had seemed like a normal morning, the kids were awoken early, sent off to eat breakfast, then to study. Heading back to his room, Steve had his head buried in his sketchbook, drawing a tree growing back its leaves. Not paying attention, he walked straight into the large crowd blocking the hallway. Intrigued, Steve snaked his way to see what had caused the backup. The kids were jostling each other with their elbows, and signing there names on a long list. Once a majority had cleared out, Steve could make out the poster. In large red, white, and blue letters, a company had sponsored a way for kids to serve in the army. Steve rubbed his eyes. That couldn't be right! A smile grew on Steve's face and he scribbled his name at the bottom of the list, without reading anymore. He walked proudly back to his cot, and began to study,

The army was running out of answers. German forces had been growing at an alarming rate, using strange, new weapons that seemed to be powered by an extraterrestrial source. After a lengthy meeting with a lot of arguing from various generals, they had come up with an idea. They would be sending teenagers about 13 and up out to war, hoping that the new agency, Hydra, would take mercy and assume the kids meant no harm. This was clearly a long shot, but it was all they had to go by. Of course, since this was the land of the free, the teenagers had a choice. For a test run, they chose an orphanage in Brooklyn to set up a sign up sheet. After a few weeks, a few generals, along with one of there daughters, set out.

Word traveled fast around the orphanage. Before it was the set time to wake up, the building was buzzing with energy. One of the raggedy ladies running the orphanage called into Steve's room it was time for those who signed up to be inspected. The room slowly piled out, and soon Steve was the only one left. Being smart, he new the lines would be too long, and instead took extra time to fix every detail right.

"You got this Steve," he told the mirror. "Just don't get into a panic attack, and hope to God this doctor doesn't check the records, and maybe you gotta shot."

"Ya know, the first sign of insanity is talking to yourself," Bucky casually strolled up behind Steve.

"How did you get here?" Asked Steve, bewildered.

"There's a hole in the fence," Bucky leaned against the wall. "Besides, Dad could of been killed for all I know, and my moms been acting dead since the vodka ran out,so I'm close enough to an orphan." Bucky looked down at the floor for a moment, but then smirked at Steve.

Steve knew that Bucky's dad had left one day and decided not to return, and ever since then, his mom turned to alcohol to cope. Steve gave Bucky a pitiful look, then went back to straightening a hair that wouldn't stay still.

"Making your hair nice probably won't make a difference," Bucky said, walking up and ruffling all of the process Steve had made. Steve scowled and sighed.

"How low do you think my chances of making it in are," Bucky bit his lip, like he does when he is lying and shrugged.

"Wow them with your personality, the rest is luck pal. C'mon, we're gonna run out of time. The two friends walked out the door together, hoping for the best, not sure of the future.

 **So Im going to try and wrap up Steve's story tomorrow, but he's a little chunk to hold over. Again, I highly recommend you favorite the story, not for the sake of vanity, but because I'm hopefully going to be getting upwards of 20 chapters, (eventually) thanks for reading! Please comment what you thought.**


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